The Savior
by Sonixawesome
Summary: Iwasawa's life isn't a good one. Her parents fight constantly, and she is forced to sit in her room in an attempt to avoid them. Sometimes, that doesn't even work. She listens to the music of someone with a similar story, and decides that she must do her part as well. Unfortunately, it doesn't end up that way...


The Savior

The girl smiled, cranking up the volume. The words of her favorite singer, the singer for the band Sad Machine, filled her ears. For just that second, she almost felt as if she were with him. He was saying, 'It's alright, Iwasawa. I'm here. I know how you feel. We're the same'.

It felt great to be just like someone, better than some people understood. In a world where everyone tried to stand on their own, some people forgot that there were still people whose legs were unsteady. Masami Iwasawa was one of those people. This music, the sounds now filling her ears, worked like crutches. Without them, Iwasawa would topple like a badly supported tower and never be brought back up.

The song ended, and Iwasawa put the headphones down. The world rushed back, and Iwasawa gave a sigh. She passed the register on her way out of the store, head held low.

"Maybe if you buy it, you won't have to walk out like that." Someone said to her. It took Iwasawa a second to realize that the words were directed towards her.

She looked at the boy briefly, and then looked away and towards the ground, "I don't have enough money." She said. The boy didn't reply for a second. She sat down on a bench, putting her head in her hands.

That was the root of her problems, in the end. Not enough money. If she'd had enough money, she wouldn't have even come here. If Iwasawa had enough money, she wouldn't be in this town. She closed her eyes, looking towards the roof of the shopping mall.

"Oh, Iwasawa…" She sighed to herself.

She jumped as something fell into her lap. The boy from before stood in front of her, a big smile on his face. Iwasawa looked down, to see what he'd done to her.

The word 'punk' caught in her throat as she saw it. The little rectangle in her lap now… No, it was more than that. The sacred container, in all its clear plastic glory, felt surreal in her hands. She looked down at it, opening the case fervently. There was a small disc inside, and she caressed it.

Iwasawa looked up, "Thank you!" She laughed. The boy had disappeared, and she looked from left to right, confused. She smiled, "Thank you…"

She looked down at the CD case, grinning wider than she had in years. She held the small item close to her chest, tears falling from her eyes, "Thank you… So much…" She giggled to herself. It was a sound she had never quite heard from her own mouth before. She liked it.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" The terrible shouting rang out through the small house. Iwasawa was curled up in her room, praying to God that they didn't come in. She held the CD case to her chest tightly, an unstoppable tide of tears falling from her eyes.

"I'VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES!"

Iwasawa curled up tighter, beginning to rock back and forth. Her bare arms were slick with moisture, and her breathing was labored. Her parents were fighting again. The sounds of their yelling were impossible to avoid, and Iwasawa's heart broke with every sound of shattered glass. All the crashing and slamming and pounding tore her apart from the inside out. Her parents didn't realize that every time they raised a fist at each other, Iwasawa felt the impact tenfold. Iwasawa took the disc from its casing, putting it into her disc player. She put on the headphones and pressed play.

"Please… Take me away from here…" She sobbed.

Iwasawa sighed, the patter of rain drops falling on her umbrella producing a calming rhythm. She loved the rain. It always helped to take the tears away. She looked down, and something caught her eyes. She bent down, pressing her hands to the smooth brown shape of the bass guitar. "Who left you here?" She whispered.

Iwasawa strummed the guitar absently, lost in thought. She was in the subway station, where she was trying to catch a train to go home. The guitar gave its beautiful vibrations, and a man stopped, looking at her. He tilted his head, putting his hands his pockets. She looked at him, mouth gaping. Then she looked down. There was an empty bag open on the ground in front of her. This guy must have thought she was a performer!

"Um…" She whispered, strumming again. "Hi, I'm Masami. Masami Iwasawa." She smiled.

He just looked at her, saying nothing. She laughed a little, "Um, well, I've never actually played much, but I think-" The man rolled his eyes, beginning to walk away.

"Wait!" She said. The man turned around, raising his eyebrows at her. He looked at his watch, and then gestured for her to go on.

"Um… Well…" She said, and then took a deep breath. She began strumming absently, playing the notes from her favorite song. She didn't want to just imitate the singer, so she said some things of her own. Not really a song, just speaking while playing the song.

"Ever since I was a little girl, my parents have had to work hard to make ends meet." She continued to strum the guitar, "at first, it was alright. We were a family, you know? But then…" She missed a note, stopping for a second. She continued, laughing a little, "They started to get a little stressed out." Her voice cracked, "I got to two years old, and we just… We just collapsed, you know? They started to fight. A lot. I couldn't go anywhere to avoid it, and sometimes, they even entered my room. I don't have a door anymore, because they just broke it and never replaced it, so I couldn't keep them out. I've tried to stop them before, but I just end up cut and bloody…"

She sniffed, a tear falling on her guitar. "When I turned ten, my friend wanted to come over to my house. I told him no, and he asked me why. I got defensive, and I told him that he just couldn't. He got mad at me, and said that I wasn't being a very good friend. I said that if he thought that, he should just find someone who'd be a better one. So he did. That's how most of my friendships have gone." She came to what was the chorus of the song, "I stayed alone for the most part. A few years back, my teacher gave me a CD of lullabies. I told her that I didn't want it, but she insisted. She gave me this little CD player, and told me to listen to music when I felt bad."

Iwasawa stopped strumming for a second, looking up at the man. It seemed that there were more people watching now. She continued to play,

"My mom got her hands on my CD when I was thirteen. She broke it right in front of me, because she thought it would distract me from my schoolwork. I didn't let her get my player, though. It wasn't much use without any CD's in it. I started going to the shopping mall when I turned fourteen, and I found the music store." She smiled. The song was over, but she continued to play random melodies as she spoke.

"I would listen to this band. The lead singer had been through the same stuff I had, but he-" She looked up. Everyone was gone. She picked up the bag, and it was full of loose change and dollar bills. She laughed, brushing her hair back.

"You know that with your grades, you could do or be anything you wanted." The guidance counselor whispered.

Iwasawa nodded, "I know. This _is _what I want to do."

"It just seems like you're letting yourself down. I know where you're from, Masami. Don't you want to make a better place for yourself?" The woman asked.

Iwasawa smiled, "If you know where I'm from, you'll know that anywhere that they aren't will be a better place."

The woman sighed, nodding, "Alright, Masami. You just do your best, okay?"

Masami stood up, turning to walk out of the room. She looked over her shoulder, smiling at the guidance counselor, "You know it!"

Masami finished the last chord, smiling at the crowd of people. "Thank you all for coming. I know that some of you have problems, things in your life that just aren't working out. Just listen to my music and realize that I understand how you feel. I only catch glimpses at you, hiding behind other people in the crowd, but you mean something to me. You are the reason I sing." She said.

As the last person placed their money in her plastic bag, he turned to her. He looked so familiar, but Masami couldn't remember, "That was a great performance." He said.

Iwasawa smiled, "Thank you."

"What's your name?" He asked.

Iwasawa tilted her head. This was new. "My name's Masami Iwasawa."

He smiled, "I like that name, Masami. Do you write your own songs?"

Who was this guy? Masami laughed nervously, "No, I usually just use the music from my favorite band and add in my own words."

"I see. Who's your favorite band?" He asked. This conversation was more than had ever happened between herself and a member of the audience. It made Iwasawa a bit uncomfortable.

"Just this guy who had a similar story to my own." She shrugged, caressing the Tele guitar.

He nodded, "Take this." He threw a folded-up piece of paper into her lap. She unfolded it, looking up for him with her mouth open, prepared to say something. He put his finger to her lips, and turned to walk away. She just looked at him, mouth open.

She read the piece of paper. It was sheet music, for a bass guitar and vocalist at the same time. She looked at the title of the song, reading it to herself.

"Alchemy?"

Here she was again- her room, that little corner of the tiny house that didn't always fill with yelling. Her parents were at it again, but this time was different. The screams weren't just in anger. There was something else. She knew she shouldn't do it, but she looked out of the closest thing to haven she had when she wasn't at the metro station. Her father had taken up a large bottle of alcohol, and her mother had a kitchen knife.

She couldn't let this go on. The two people had hurt her, taken everything she had, but she couldn't just let them kill each other. She rushed in, placing herself between her mother and father, just as the bottle came down. She fell into darkness.

"Are you alright, Masami?" Her co-worker at the small restaurant, a girl named Miki whom she'd known for a couple of years, asked her.

Iwasawa nodded, rubbing her eyes and grabbing up the now-clean plates. _I guess I'm just stressed. I've been doing too much this week. I think I'll see about postponing that gig for tonight…_ The plates fell from her grasp, and as she bent down to pick them up, her vision went blurry. She didn't even feel herself hit the ground.

Her eyes opened, and she turned to the male nurse at her side. "Where am I? What happened?" She asked. The nurse showed no sign of having heard her.

"Hey!" She shouted. She grasped at the nurse's arm, and he jumped. "What's your deal! I'm asking-" Iwasawa realized something was wrong. She cried out, but heard no sound. Her voice was gone, entirely. She began crying.

"It's alright, Ms. Iwasawa. You'll be okay. We can teach you sign language, and you can still play your guitar." The nurse said, stroking her hair. He turned away, "Unfortunately, you will never speak, much less sing, ever again." He said, closing his eyes.

Iwasawa continued to cry. _If I can't sing… If I can't sing, how am I supposed to get my message to people? How can I save them, just as I was saved? What use will I be?_

Some believe that Masami Iwasawa died that night of a broken heart and the weight of her destroyed dreams. Others say she just lost her will to live. That month, the band Sad Machine released a brand new album. It was entitled 'For Masami'.

**Okay… *snivel* I think… *sniff* No, I'm not going to cry! In the name of an impartial writer, I will not- Oh, there's just no way! WAAAAAAHAHAAAHAHAAAAAH! TnT**

** Masami: It's alright, Sonixawesome!**

** Me: O.T Iwasawa?**

** Masami: *laughs* I'm fine, remember? I've completed my goal. How about you? Don't you have something you want to do?**

** Me: *wipes away tears and balls up fists in front of face in determination* You're right! I want to make people happy! Just as you did with your music, I'll use my stories to bring smiles and tears to people's eyes! That's who I am, and what I must do!**

** Masami: That's the spirit, dude!**

** Me: *shouting* Thank you, Iwasawa!**

** My mom behind me: Um… Who are you talking to? O_e**

** Me: It's Iwasawa, mom! The girl from the anime!**

** My mom: *facepalm* whatever you say, Christian. *rolls eyes and walks away.***


End file.
